Who You Were, Who You Are
by Joseph Haney
Summary: Before heading out for the evening, Patterson tries to help Jane/Taylor sort through some things.


Patterson followed her team of analysts out of the lab on the way to the elevator at the end of the day. They were talking to each other, exchanging their plans for the evening and trying to pressure one of the new analysts to come out with them to a bar for a quick nightcap before everyone went their separate ways. Patterson smiled as she listened to the exchange, but refrained from participating herself. She was the leader of the team and, while she did want the new analyst (whose name was Walker) to join them, she didn't want her to do so because she thought her boss was ordering her to.

These thoughts were all shaken from her head as they passed the field agent's desks. Most of the agents had gone home for the evening, but there was a light on at one of the desks. The desk belonging to Agent Weller, actually, but it wasn't Weller who was sitting at it. Instead, the person sitting there was the mysterious Jane Doe. Or Taylor Shaw as she had learned today after running three separate DNA tests to confirm it. She was sitting at the desk staring at the computer with a determined look on her face.

"Hey," a voice said, snapping her back to her team. The voice belonged to Thompson, her unofficial second in command. "Are you alright?" she asked.

"Huh? Oh! Yes. I'm fine," Patterson said.

"Okay, well come on, then," Thompson said, jerking her head toward the elevator where the rest of the team was waiting. Patterson looked at them, then back to the tattooed woman.

"Um…you go on ahead," she said to Thompson. "I just remembered something I have to do, and it can't wait until tomorrow. I'll catch up to you guys."

Thompson followed her gaze, then nodded. "Alright," she said, starting toward the rest of the group. "But don't take too long or we're putting the drinks on your tab."

Patterson let out a small chuckle. "Understood," she said, before turning and walking toward the desk as Taylor leaned back in the chair, covering her face with her hands and taking a deep breath.

"Hey," the analyst said as she approached. "You okay?"

"Of course I'm not," Taylor said, looking up at her. "Someone erased all of my memories, tattooed me against my will and, if there is a God, he seems determined to keep me from finding out anything about me."

Patterson winced a little. "Right. Sorry. Dumb question."

Taylor sighed. "No…I know what you meant. I'm just frustrated, but that doesn't mean I should take it out on you. You did at least give me a name to go with my face."

"It was nothing," Patterson said, giving her a small smile. "I'm glad I could help. I can only imagine what this has been like for you…" She trailed off and the two lapsed into an awkward silence for a moment, before the analyst broke it. "What are you doing? I would have thought you would have gone home for the night like everyone else."

"Yeah, well…I was doing a little research on myself," Taylor said, gesturing toward the computer screen. Patterson looked and saw that Taylor had pulled up a bunch of articles on her disappearance fifteen years ago. "I thought there might be something here that would trigger something…a memory – or ten. But nothing. I don't remember any of this, any of these people they interviewed, any of these places they took pictures of….none of it." She sat back with a sigh.

"Maybe…maybe you should get some rest," Patterson suggested. "Maybe something will click better after you turn your brain off for a few hours."

"Why would it start now?"

"Because that's how brains work," Patterson said.

"Most brains," Taylor said. "Not mine." She took a deep breath. "And that might be for the best."

Patterson frowned. "Why do you say that?"

"Because the few things I've managed to remember…none of it is particularly pleasant." She looked up at the analyst. "I've killed people, Patterson."

"So has Agent Weller," Patterson said. "I'm sure those memories aren't particularly pleasant for him. But it doesn't make him a bad person."

"But he knows who he was. He knows why he killed them. All I know is that I killed people. I can't remember why I did it."

Patterson took a deep breath and pulled up a chair, sitting beside the desk. "I'm going to say something," she said, "and I'd like to get all the way through it before you respond, okay?"

Taylor frowned, but nodded.

"I don't…I don't know anything about Taylor Shaw. Just what's in those articles, and the fact that your DNA matches the sample in her case file. I couldn't tell you anything about who you were before you crawled out of that duffle bag. But I do know Jane Doe. And she is a good person. You help people. The only people you've killed since you crawled out of that bag have been criminals trying to hurt people. Those aren't memories. They're instincts."

Taylor was quiet for a moment. "I wish I was as sure as you," she said quietly. "I truly do. I wish I could have your faith in humanity…in me. I just…what I remember about myself…I can't pretend it isn't part of who I am."

"That's true," Patterson said. "But, for what it's worth, I think who you are now is more important than you were before all of this."

"Really?"

"Yes. Because now you get a fresh start. Whoever you were before all of this, you get to choose to be someone else now. Your life is a blank canvas. What gets painted on it is up to you."

That got a small chuckle. "I didn't peg you for someone who used cheesy metaphors," Taylor said.

Patterson blushed a little. "I usually don't," she said with a small smile. "But I thought I'd give it a try. See what all the fuss was about."

Taylor nodded. "Fair enough," she said. She took a deep breath. "Thank you, Agent Patterson. Truly."

"I'm glad to help," Patterson said. "You're part of the team now. And that's all I care about." She stood, pushing the chair back to where she'd gotten it from. "Do you want to come out for a drink? It might help take your mind off of things for a while."

"I don't know," Taylor said. "I'm not sure I drink. Besides, I think my new security detail might have some issues with me going out like that. But thanks for the offer."

Patterson nodded. "Well, goodnight, then," she said. "I'll see you tomorrow." She turned and started toward the door. She stopped when she reached it and turned back. "One more thing," she said. "You can just call me Patterson. 'Agent'…it's a little too formal for my taste."

"Noted," Taylor said with a small smile. "Goodnight, Patterson."

Patterson gave her a nod, then walked out, heading for the elevator.


End file.
